


creeps

by feysund



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Elriel, Elriel au, F/M, High School AU, bffs to lovers, cassian being a dummy, elain x azriel - Freeform, elriel being cute, feyre being a stalker, figure skater hockey player au, ice skating / hockey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-23
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:48:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27164792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/feysund/pseuds/feysund
Summary: Feyre is standing in the bleachers of the ice rink, watching Elain and Azriel, and maybe it makes her a little creepy, but she doesn't really care.
Relationships: Elain Archeron/Azriel, Feyre Archeron/Rhysand
Comments: 3
Kudos: 63





	creeps

**Author's Note:**

> hi!! im such a sucker for figure skating / hockey au's so!!!! pls leave comments ilysm okay bye

Feyre is standing in the bleachers of the ice rink, watching Elain and Azriel, and maybe it makes her a little creepy, but she doesn't really care. 

Elain is pinning her two french braids into a crown behind her head, tying it together with a pink ribbon as Azriel tries, and miserably fails, to look elsewhere. Her cheeks are as pink as the laces on her skates as she finishes and drops her hands to smooth out her skirt, which is also pink: sparkly and the color of a spring tulip. Azriel looms over her, dressed from head to toe in black uniform hockey gear, hair splayed across his face. Feyre's sure the blush isn't because of the cold.

"What are we looking at?" Cassian nearly shouts, lumbering over to where Feyre is standing. Luckily, they're too high up for either Azriel or Elain to hear them. 

"Shhh," Feyre hushes, and points to the pair waiting on the rink.

\------------

"Lainy, are you sure you can't do it one more time?" Azriel pleads. Although he knows he's not supposed to, he's chipping the ice with his blade, kicking at it. 

Elain shakes her head, her little ribbons shaking. "I showed you my short program three times," she responds, giggling a bit. "No more jumps and turns for me. I'm tired."

Disappearing for a minute, Azriel comes back with a hockey stick in each hand. "Too busy for a game?"

Elain grabs at the stick. It's much too large for her, and she always loses, but she loves playing makeshift, shitty hockey games with Azriel. Her skates are figure skates, not hockey skates, and she's wearing a short dress full of pink sparkles and a sheer, glowing sleeves, with only tights underneath, and she'll probably lose, but Azriel is giving her one of his rare--too rare, in her opinion--smiles and she's grabbing the stick and he's setting the puck down and laughing, because there's something so funny about Elain's 5'1, dress-clad body, wearing figure skates with pink laces, sizing up 6'4 Azriel, who's in full hockey gear.

"I'm so going to win," Elain vows.

"Yeah," Azriel scoffs. "Okay."

\---------

Rhysand is quieter than Cassian, but not enough to escape Feyre's scolds. 

"What are you two doing?" he asks, almost afraid to. Cassian and Feyre are fixtated on the scene below, standing shoulder-to-shoulder (or, more accurately, shoulder-to-head). 

"Shhhh," both of them hiss, pointing at Azriel and Elain below. 

Elain barrels into Azriel-such strength for such a small girl--sweeping her stick between his feet and taking the puck before flurrying off towards the other side of the rink.

\----------

"You have to be better than that," Azriel teases. Elain pouts on the side, waiting for Azriel to retrieve the puck from the net. She's losing--badly--which isn't abnormal, but she's still a little upset. Her braids have fallen from their crown, surrounding her in frizzy, caramel hair and pink ribbons. Sweat breaks down her forehead, ignoring her as she constantly wipes it away and away and away.

"Well, considering one of us plays hockey and the other doesn't..."

"Really?" Azriel feigns confusion, scratching his head. "Which one of us?"

"Very funny," Elain says, and pulls towards the puck before Azriel even knows what's going on. 

"Hey!" he shouts after her. "Ellie, that's cheating!"

"No," she calls over her shoulder, before slapping the puck into the net. "It's being smart!" 

"Great," he huffs when he catches up to her. "So what's the score now? 16-2?"

She glowers at him. 

\-------------

"You guys are creeps," Mor announces, walking to the trio.

Feyre, Cassian, and Rhys are standing, completely silent, watching Azriel and Elain. They've long given up hockey; Elain is skating pretty circles around Azriel, pulling her leg behind her head and doing other tricks and spins that none of them can name. 

But then Mor settles beside Rhys, warm brown eyes fixated on the pair below.

Creeps.

\-----------

They're sitting in the box, Elain sliding pink guards onto her blades and smoothing down her hair. Azriel's knee is pressed against her, an unnaturally red blush spread across his cheeks. She's tired--exhausted, really--and all she wants is to take off her tights, but Azriel is warm and it's cold in the rink and she leans her head on his chest.

He stiffens, and for a minute she panics, thinking she did something wrong, and then relaxes, arm going around her.

"You're getting better at scoring," Azriel says.

"Oh yeah? Think I have a future in hockey?"

"I wouldn't go that far, Ellie."

\--------------

Amren pretends she's not interested, but she sidles up beside Feyre, watching Azriel and Elain wrapped around each other, Elain sliding pink guards over her blades.

"How long have we been watching?"

"An hour," Feyre responds. "Shut up."

\-----------

Elain smiles, finally pulling off her skates and shimmying out of her tights. She's in the boys locker room, where she's technically not allowed, but no one is there but Azriel, and they have their backs turned to each other. Sighing happily, she slips into a pair of those fluffy sweatpants Azriel swears by, rolling them at the hips and at the ankles, but still drowning in it. Azriel pulls on his own, both of them donning a big black sweatshirt with the rink's logo on the front. Elain takes out her braids, brushing them out with her fingers and reusing the ribbons to tie two low pigtails. Elain's little feet are clad in pink slip-on Vans, Azriel's the same but black. 

Exiting the locker room, they go the other way from the bleachers, going to the small food stand that sells fries that Elain loves. She's halfway through inhaling them when they walk back to the group, expecting to find Cassian, Rhys, Feyre, Mor, and Amren waiting in the car. Except they're all standing, pressed to the glass, eyes glossy as if none of them have blinked. 

For a few minutes, Elain stands, munching on fries and holding the container out to Azriel, occasionally sucking the salt off her fingers. Her head tilts to the side, a little confused, as she shares a wondering look with Azriel.

"What are you guys looking at?"

"Lainy and Az," Cassian responds, quickly, as if the noise is a disturbance. 

Azriel and Elain share a horrified look, Elain swallowing a giggle and almost choking on a fry.

"We're wondering when they're finally going to get together, seeing as Azriel is so in love with El and she's just as smitten."

"Is she now?" Azriel laughs. He wonders why they're so distracted that they haven't recognized his voice or turned around.

"He is?" Elain manages. 

"Yeah and it's so obvious. They other day he was telling me-- Mor! Ow!"

Mor plasters a saccharine sweet smile on her face. "Hi, Ellie. Hi, Az."

Feyre giggles.


End file.
